The Weapon Takers Saga Box Set

by Jamie Edmundson

  In recent hours he had enjoyed little time for further reflection. Farred wanted as large a proportion of the South Magnian troops to be as personally loyal to him as possible. He travelled to his homeland on the border between Magnia and the Midder Steppe. The fighting men from his own estate formed the nucleus of his force. He then recruited from his friends and neighbours, men who could be vouched for and who knew him. Edgar was offering excellent wages for recruits, but insisted that each supply their own mount, armour and weaponry. This reduced the pool of potential soldiers, but did ensure that only those with a decent level of training were likely to sign up.

  When Farred returned to Bidcote, Edgar had also managed to raise around five hundred mounted soldiers. They were mostly young sons of noblemen, eager for glory. This made them naïve but well equipped and, in the main, well trained. This combined force was now ready to head north. Wilchard, Edgar’s steward, had ridden north immediately after the Southern Conference. He had been given the task of raising around another thousand soldiers. This was to be done by gathering the only permanent army in the kingdom: those men who were stationed as guards in the castles on the border with North Magnia. These men would be career soldiers, though perhaps, thought Farred, less than keen to leave their easy existence for the obvious dangers in the Empire. Since Edgar already paid their wages, however, they had to go where he asked. Cerdda of North Magnia was using his border soldiers for the same purpose, leaving both sides of the border undefended.

  This would become the full contribution of troops from South Magnia. The Conference had agreed that all troops raised should be mounted, since it would be a long journey north. Farred would lead his force to the north-east corner of the kingdom. Here the forces of South and North Magnia and the Steppe would combine to make six thousand. Prince Cerdda’s own brother, Ashere, was leading the North Magnians, and Brock was leading the fighters from his tribe. It was hoped that Bastien of Morbaine could arrange safe passage for the force to travel through Guivergne on its way to Kelland. This would help them to avoid trouble from the rebellious Duke Emeric.

  The moment to leave had arrived fast. Farred trotted forwards. Ahead, a scaffold had been erected. The flag of Magnia, the Sun in Glory, had been draped around it to create a kind of rostrum. It was an image rarely used in recent years, since it represented the whole of Magnia; neither Edgar nor Cerdda had been willing to use it very often. But Edgar had requested it for this occasion, since troops from both countries would be fighting together in one army.

  He waited on top of the scaffold with other notable persons of the realm, ready to give his blessing to Farred’s army. Underneath it stood the more ordinary folk of Magnia, seeing off their loved ones. Farred nodded to the noblemen and churchmen atop the scaffold, some of whom solemnly nodded back; others gave an encouraging welcome; yet others studiously ignored him. Succeed in this venture, thought Farred, and they could not afford to ignore him in the future.

  Edgar moved forwards and they clasped hands.

  ‘Are you ready, Farred?’ asked the Prince.

  Farred nodded. ‘Ready.’

  ‘You will meet up with Prince Ashere soon. You must make sure to give him every courtesy as befits his rank. Defer to him when possible, but control over my troops ultimately rests with you. In the Empire, the same applies in your dealings with Baldwin. Is that clear?’

  ‘It is clear, Your Highness.’

  Edgar grasped his shoulder. ‘Good luck.’

  Farred nodded. He walked his horse a few feet away from the rostrum. He drew his sword and held it in the air. A cheer rose up. Farred’s army began to move.

  ‘This is as far as we go,’ said Trevor.

  Belwynn and the others looked over to the old man they had met last night in the inn. They had been travelling for about three hours. He and a couple of younger men from the inn had taken them along a route which they had said would get them to the lands of the Caladri quickly. They had passed by the odd cottage at first, where woodsmen eked out a lonely existence. The countryside north of the inn was not suitable for arable farming, but Belwynn observed that most people kept pigs, who were left to their own devices to forage and root amongst the trees. As they moved further into the forest, human habitation ended and any pigs they saw were wild ones. The going got slower and slower as their horses were forced to pick their way through denser and denser cover.

  He nodded ahead.

  ‘Up there, you can make out one of the Caladri poles.’

  Belwynn looked ahead and could just make out a light brown wooden pole which had previously blended in with the trees around it. She looked at Soren and he nodded back.

  They all dismounted and took what they needed from the saddlebags of their mounts. They were leaving yet another set of horses behind. Trevor had agreed to take the horses in return for guiding them here. He had also promised to sell them back at a reasonable price if they came back, but he didn’t seem very convinced that was likely to happen, and Belwynn had the same feeling.

  Trevor and his two colleagues gathered the nine mounts. ‘Good luck,’ he murmured, the others nodding silently in their direction. With that they turned around, looking relieved to be heading back in the direction they had come.

  Belwynn watched them leave until they were no longer visible before turning around to the others. They stood around looking at each other, less than eager to press on. To Belwynn they looked like nine little children who had got lost in the woods.

  ‘Let’s take a look at this pole, then,’ suggested Herin.

  He marched off in that direction.

  One by one, they followed him.

  As Belwynn approached the pole, she could see that it stood in a small cleared circle within the forest, suggesting that it was maintained fairly regularly. It stood approximately two-thirds the height of the biggest trees around it. Gyrmund was talking to Clarin and pointing to his left. Belwynn followed his finger and could just make out a second, similarly-designed pole in the distance. Curious, she looked in the other direction and saw yet another.

  Soren was studying the inscriptions on the pole, carved in and coloured in with inks. There were a series of pictures running down it. At the top of the series was the largest image—a three dimensional face. Belwynn was struck by it, for in many respects it resembled a human face, and yet clearly it was not. She knew she was looking at the carved face of a Caladri.

  She took a while to study it and identify what made it different. The face was tilted upwards slightly. It began with a pointed chin and thin lips. The nose was hooked and the eyes full circles. Belwynn felt that she could stare at this alien face for hours and remain fascinated, but she made herself look at the other carvings on the pole.

  Beneath the face were three smaller and less detailed pictures: a skull; a knife dripping with blood; another face, neither human nor Caladri, but some kind of devil with glaring red eyes. Clearly these were designed to scare off or warn people who came across them.

  Beneath the pictures was a short piece of carved writing, but the characters were undecipherable to Belwynn. Soren was studying it.

  ‘Do you know what it says?’ she asked him.

  Moneva and Dirk looked up at the question and moved closer. Belwynn felt a certain amount of pride in her brother, since both held expressions of surprise at the idea that Soren might be able to understand the strange looking characters.

  ‘Just about…it is mostly straightforward. The first line says Turn around, walk away, do not look back and you will live. The second is Or face ahead, walk on and you will… I don’t know what the last word means.’

  Dirk shrugged. ‘You will die seems to fit.’

  Soren smiled. ‘Yes, that’s possible…but it’s not a word for death that I’ve come across.’

  ‘Well,’ said Moneva, ‘seems to me a bit of a waste of time to carve a message in characters which no one will understand.’

  Moneva had a point and, growing bored with the pole, the group pressed on
into the lands of the Blood Caladri. Gyrmund, as usual, led from the front, though Belwynn wondered why; he had already admitted that this was one part of Dalriya he had not visited before. Rabigar walked next to him. Soren had suggested that the Blood Caladri might be curious if they saw a Krykker in the party and be more likely to refrain from killing them on the spot. Rabigar had looked at him sceptically, but took his position at the front willingly enough.

  They walked into the forest for three hours. There were no paths, since humans did not enter the lands of the Caladri and, according to the folk at the inn last night, they did not leave either. Gyrmund took care to follow the easiest route, but the going was difficult. The forest itself was pleasant enough, having nothing like the oppressive quality of the Wilderness. After travelling so far so fast on horseback, however, Belwynn found the current pace frustrating. The knowledge that they did not actually know where they were going made things worse. The others were getting equally fed up and Belwynn asked for a rest.

  ‘This is hard work,’ she commented. ‘This may turn into a long journey before we reach the inhabited part of the forest.’

  ‘This was a stupid idea,’ said Herin, less constructively. ‘We’ve only gone a mile or two in all this time. We’re bumbling around like a bunch of idiots.’

  ‘If you have a better idea where we’re going, feel free to take the lead,’ said Gyrmund defensively.

  ‘That’s the point, isn’t it?’ replied Herin irritably. ‘None of us know where the hell we’re going. We don’t know of a town or city. Finding a settlement in this forest is like finding a needle in a haystack. We could spend the next month here walking around and not find one stinking Caladri.’

  ‘True,’ said Gyrmund. ‘We’re going to have to wait for them to come to us.’

  ‘And if they don’t?’ asked Clarin.

  Gyrmund shrugged.

  ‘They’ll have to find us first,’ Belwynn considered, thinking that they might have to do something in order to draw attention to themselves.

  ‘They already know we’re here,’ said Gyrmund.

  ‘What do you mean?’ said Belwynn.

  ‘What are you talking about?’ demanded Herin.

  ‘I think they’ve been following us for a while now,’ explained Gyrmund.

  ‘Why didn’t you bloody say so?’ shouted Herin, getting increasingly angry.

  ‘You didn’t ask,’ Gyrmund responded calmly.

  Herin drew his sword.

  ‘Oh Toric, not more hysterics, Herin,’ complained Belwynn.

  Gyrmund backed away, his hand on his sword hilt.

  ‘I haven’t seen anyone, and my eyesight’s as good as yours,’ said Clarin.

  ‘Perhaps, but do you know what you’re looking for?’ asked Gyrmund.

  ‘This idiot is pushing us too far,’ growled Herin, pacing forwards as Gyrmund walked backwards. ‘How do we know he’s seen anyone?’

  There was sudden movement about them.

  A form appeared out of the forest behind Gyrmund, and before Belwynn could shout out, Gyrmund had a knife at his neck.

  There were about a dozen other figures surrounding them, with bows drawn and arrows aimed at them. The Blood Caladri had found them.

  ‘Now do you believe we’re here?’ asked the Caladri who had his knife pressed against Gyrmund’s neck.

  Belwynn looked about her, fearful that with one word the arrows pointed at them would be loosed to find their targets. She was still able, however, to take some pleasure in the look of total surprise on Gyrmund’s face.

  Soren fumbled about in his cloak; two Caladri were training their arrows on him should he try something.

  He produced Gustav’s signet, the silver hawk with runic inscriptions, and handed it to the nearest Caladri. The Caladri soldier studied it briefly and showed it to his leader, who still had his knife at Gyrmund’s throat. The leader had a look himself before turning back to Soren.

  ‘What are you doing here?’ he demanded.

  ‘We are representatives of Emperor Baldwin of Brasingia and of Prince Edgar of Magnia. The primary purpose of our visit here is to discuss with King Tibor the shared threat from Ishari, and how our peoples can help each other.’

  The head Caladri stared at Soren for a few seconds, as if doing so would tell him whether Soren was lying or not.

  ‘It seems as though you have important business,’ he decided. ‘King Tibor is a long way from here. His son, Prince Lorant, is close by. We will escort you to him.’

  With that, and with no other introductions, the Caladri leader released Gyrmund.

  ‘We require that you give your weapons to us.’

  After a confusing few seconds, Rabigar acted first, and handed his sword to the nearest Caladri soldier, who decided it was easiest to sling his bow over one shoulder and carry the sword in his hands. Belwynn and the others followed his lead.

  Satisfied, the Caladri turned around and headed in a north-westerly direction. They spread out in a fan shape, not bothering to give Belwynn’s group a second look.

  ‘Right,’ said Soren, seemingly to himself as much as to anyone else, ‘We’ll just follow them. Be careful. I think that little argument between Herin and Gyrmund was …encouraged. They have at least one wizard amongst them.’

  Herin and Gyrmund glared at each other, but the anger seemed to have gone.

  So, Belwynn thought to herself, we’re walking through the forest again. At least they were now being led by the Caladri, to a specific location. Despite carrying two sets of weapons, while Belwynn and her friends carried none, they set a quick pace.

  As she settled in to her walking again, Belwynn took the time to study the first real-life Caladri she had seen.

  The carved face on the pole she had examined was a very accurate representation. Indeed, she could see that, compared to humans, their faces were sort of tilted at a slight angle, giving the impression that they were always looking down their noses at people. To them, she guessed, humans might appear to have rather flat faces. Their hair, like humans, could be blonde or dark or red, but the fashion among these male Caladri was to grow it long to their shoulders. Most of them tied it up or braided it to keep it out of their faces.

  The body structure of the Caladri was also different. Most noticeable was the feet: four long digits ending in claws. They walked barefoot and put their weight on these four toes rather than on the rest of the foot. It gave them a more broken, bird-like gait than the smoother walking motion of Belwynn’s group, but it seemed to allow them to travel at a quick pace. They were, on average, a couple of inches smaller than humans, and had noticeably thinner frames. Their arms and legs looked so thin to Belwynn that they might snap if pressed too hard, yet clearly they were strong enough. One of them was carrying Clarin’s huge sword, resting the flat end on his shoulder as he navigated his way through the forest.

  The Caladri did not stop for rest or food, and Belwynn and the others ate their lunch as they walked. The interest Belwynn had in the Caladri eventually began to wane and the journey once more became a drain. The Caladri, clearly forest dwellers, were used to the dense foliage and seemed able to find obstruction free pathways without even looking for them. The others, save perhaps for Gyrmund, were not doing so well. Although they were, in theory, simply following the path the Caladri at the front were taking, they tripped on snags and undergrowth, slipped in the permanently-damp forest floor, and jammed their feet in holes in the ground, which the forest seemed to have deliberately covered over with leaves. Belwynn noticed that Moneva, in particular, was increasingly swearing under her breath. When Gyrmund reached over a hand to guide her along, she snatched her arm away from him and continued to run through the long list of expletives she knew.

  Then, sometime around mid-afternoon, Belwynn found that the Caladri had led them onto a stone path. It was more than a path worn into the forest floor by feet; it had the look of something deliberately created, being wide enough for five people to walk side by side. Belwynn supp
osed that it was the equivalent of a road.

  None of the Caladri made any comment on the introduction of a new surface to their guests. They didn’t talk amongst themselves, either.

  The journey continued on foot on the Caladri path, in silence. The Caladri still walked in a kind of triangular formation, so that while the leaders at the front walked on the road, most of the Caladri were scattered to either side, seemingly happy enough to keep walking on the forest floor.

  After thirty minutes they reached a way station. A large timber building had been constructed a few feet from the road, along with several smaller ones. In the yard between the road and the building there waited a couple of huge carriages. Four powerful-looking male gaur were connected to the front carriage, which in turn was attached to the rear one; both of them large-wheeled, roofed, and luxurious looking.

  The group approached and then stopped on the road while the leader of the Caladri soldiers walked over and entered the building. Three minutes passed in silence. The remaining Caladri soldiers seemed disinterested in the proceedings and in their human guests. Belwynn found this surprising, since she and the others could not stop themselves from staring at the strangeness of them.

  After three minutes the leader returned. He uttered a few commands to his soldiers; each of them walked over and handed back the weapons they had been carrying to their rightful owners. The Caladri who approached Belwynn held up her sword, balanced on his palms.

  ‘Thank you,’ she said, taking the handle and lifting up the weapon.

  The Caladri inclined his head in recognition, but said nothing.

  ‘We are leaving you here now,’ the leader said to everyone. ‘Good day.’

  With that, the troop of Caladri soldiers turned around and walked back in the direction they had come. Belwynn turned around again to look in the direction of the building, anticipating that they were a responsibility which had now been passed on to someone else. Sure enough, there was another Caladri now waiting to greet them. He stood by the gaur, where steps on the carriage led up to the driver’s platform.